


Stay With Me Tonight?

by Stormkeeper



Category: Boy George (Musician), Culture Club (Band)
Genre: 1980s, 80's, 80's Music, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bi, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Culture Club, Dorks in Love, Exes, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Male Character, Idiots in Love, Inspired by real people, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Music, Musicians, Real Relationship, Sad and Happy, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24493396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormkeeper/pseuds/Stormkeeper
Summary: George has moved on to Michael having split from Jon. They finally encounter each other properly for the first time since their break-up.
Relationships: Boy George/Jon Moss
Comments: 16
Kudos: 6





	Stay With Me Tonight?

Rubbing his eyes, Jon sat up and examined the room. Yet another night in someone else's bed; he couldn't even name them if he tried. He didn't even bother to look at whoever he spent the night with before grabbing his stuff and leaving - it wasn't like he cared. To be honest, they could have been anyone and it didn't matter. Anything would be better than dealing with the crippling loneliness he felt whenever he was home alone. He figured that if he went out every night, the pain could be numbed. As long as he wasn't left alone with his thoughts, nothing mattered.

As his front door slammed shut, he sighed, back again in the cold, dark shell he was supposed to call home. It had never been the same since George left. He seemed to have taken all the love and light that used to beam through the house. He popped a pill to ease his headache and flopped onto his sofa, flicking through the channels - anything to drown out the deafening silence. After a sharp intake of breath, he paused. There he was, dancing and singing his new single on the television for all to see. Jon couldn't work out whether to laugh or cry and so opted for both. After a small chuckle of disbelief, a silent tear rolled down his cheek. Good god how he missed him. 

He had no desire to cook and decided to go out for a quick takeaway. The paths were damp and empty; it was almost as if they were telling him that they understood. He shook himself out of a bleak daydream before freezing. He cocked his head, swearing that he knew that voice.

 _Don't be so ridiculous,_ he thought. 

His ears pricked up again, he'd recognise that laugh anywhere. Cursing the world for letting it happen, he picked up his pace, hoping to avoid any unwanted encounters. On the verge of a jog, he rushed around the corner directly into an oncoming couple. 

"Ah shit, sorr-"

He looked up only to be confronted with the very person he was trying his upmost to forget. Unable to tear his gaze away, he just stared at the pair.

"Jon." George broke the silence.

"Alright?" He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Who's this?"

"Oh, uh, this is Michael," he began, "my boyfriend."

Jon swore he felt his jaw drop to the ground. "Your what?"

"Yeah, we've been seeing each other for a few months now!" Michael smiled and kissed George's cheek, making Jon wince at the very sight.

"I take it you two know each other?" Michael asked.

"You could say that." George let out an exasperated laugh, "he's-"

"His ex," Jon said abruptly.

Michael's eyes widened as he tried desperately to change the subject and leave, while George shook his head.

"Should have known really," Jon cackled, "you look like the type of mug who'd let themselves be dominated by a-"

"Couldn't resist, could you?" George interrupted, "don't you think it's about time you came down from that high horse of yours? If I recall, you weren't exactly Mother Teresa."

"I'm surprised you can recall anything, given the state you've been in." Jon snarled.

"Maybe we should just go.." Michael attempted to tug George away.

"You weren't anything special anyway." Jon turned to face them.

"At least I ain't a pathetic little closet case." George laughed sarcastically, "good shag though, weren't I?"

Michael hurried George down the road, getting away from Jon as fast as they could. The second they were out of sight, he dropped his smirk and threw himself against the nearest wall. 

_For fuck's sake._

He didn't think he could quite face going home. Instead, he took his chips on a little journey around the streets, taking up residence on a nice bench overlooking the Heath. The next thing he knew, it was virtually nightfall - and he only knew that as he felt the light taps of early rainfall on his head, forcing him to look back.

_Fantastic._

Instead of calling it a night and going home, he didn't move. He barely even noticed how drenched he was until a shadowy figure walked in front of him in a big coat and umbrella. After walking a bit further down the path, the figure stopped to turn back.

"You're soaked." He said, standing over him.

"Great observation," Jon replied, refusing to meet his eye.

"What are you doing out here, you silly sod?" He asked, voice softening slightly.

"What are _you_ doing here?" He responded, deliberately being awkward. 

"For once in your life, why don't you stop being such an arse?" He exclaimed, trying to lift him from the bench.

"Why don't you go back to _Michael_!" He mocked, shaking him off. "Why aren't you with him anyway? I thought he was supposed to be god's gift?"

George rolled his eyes before forcing him in the direction of home, ignoring all protest attempts. Once they arrived back, he pushed Jon through the door, taking his wet coat off and forcing him in the shower. 

"What are you still doing here?" He rubbed his eyes before sinking into the sofa after his shower. 

"You're charming, you." George laughed, placing a cup of tea in front of him. 

"You know what I mean." Jon frowned, "you've moved on, remember?"

"I had to." George sat beside him with his own mug of tea. 

Jon gently rested his head on George's shoulder. George sighed before placing his head on Jon's. 

"I'm sorry," Jon said, almost as a whisper.

"I know, you can't help being an idiot." He laughed.

Jon put his cup down and met George's eye, smiling tenderly. 

"I miss you," Jon muttered, eyes turning glassy. 

"You look tired," George said softly, caressing his cheek as he moved a bit of hair from his eyes. 

"Ah, I'm absolutely knackered." He stretched.

"I should probably go," George said, getting up to leave.

"Back to Michael." Jon rolled his eyes.

"Not that it's any of your business." George picked up his coat. "I'll see you around, Jon."

Jon huffed and shook his head. "Wait!"

"What?" He turned back.

"Don't." Jon whispered, "Don't go."

"Jon, I -"

"Please, stay?" Jon pleaded, "stay with me tonight?"

George shut his eyes and sighed. His mind was telling him to go, but every other fibre of his being was begging him to turn around. He faced Jon, unable to tear himself away from him looking so vulnerable. Perhaps he wasn't quite as over him as he was telling everyone. The corner of George's mouth turned up, dropping his coat before scooping Jon up in his arms. For the first time in almost a year, they finally felt safe and complete. George wrapped his arms around him as Jon nuzzled his neck. It was almost as if all the light and love that had been absent for so long had returned. At last, Jon slept in his own bed with the man he truly loved, a scene he never wanted to end. He knew that he'd probably be gone in the morning, but at least they had tonight.


End file.
